


The Rabbit

by mochisquish



Series: Conquer [1]
Category: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Gen, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-23
Updated: 2011-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-23 23:31:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochisquish/pseuds/mochisquish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quorra returns to the Grid, determined and alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rabbit

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [smiley_anon](http://smiley_anon.livejournal.com).

Quorra was dusted in an orange glow, heard a flood of sharp taps like rainwater fall behind her.She knew enough of movies now that had this been Sam’s world she’d be splattered red and stepping over chunks of flesh.Those scenes always bothered her, made a sickness rise through her body, and though the inner workings of Users was foreign, blood just seemed more real - a human’s pain seemed greater.

There were two bodies on the ground, in various states of deresolution before a third joined them.The staff stabbed into the man’s abdomen, whipped around with enough force to crack his neck and send him crashing on top of the others, lifeless.A flash of black crossed her vision and she grabbed onto the arm coming to wrap around her neck, threw herself backwards and into the guard behind her, flipping him over her shoulder.With disc ignited she finished him, couldn’t risk being vulnerable when it was impossible to tell how many others would appear.

CLU was gone but the Black Guards remained, still following their hardwired orders, unaware their empire had fallen.Rinzler had yet to resurface and that was fine by Quorra; she didn’t know she could handle him if he did – didn’t know if she could force her hands to kill Tron if left with no other option.

The guards she could save, she did, deactivated and put them into hibernation until she learned how to reprogram.She knew Sam was intelligent enough to understand his father’s code - waited patiently for him to recover and step up and help her restore order.Flynn’s only son didn’t wish to revisit the Grid immediately, gave half a smile every time Quorra told him she was leaving, put a hand on her shoulder when he said, “Be careful.”

Under Flynn’s care Quorra was stagnant, and she learned patience but never reaped the benefits.Sam was different.Anarchy was his friend, things that were wrong had to be righted, and he encouraged Quorra to do what she felt she must.He let her go, feared for her safety but let her go because it was the right thing to do.He would help her one day.He just wasn’t ready yet.

A punch to the head sent another guard stumbling and a roundhouse kick into the side of his torso put him on the floor.He was stunned and she saw opportunity if fingers flew fast enough.Quorra dropped to her knees, ripped the disc from his back.This was someone’s friend, perhaps another Program’s lover, or maybe he would awaken and be alone; maybe Quorra already derezzed the people who were part of his past life.

Quorra’s mission was not to return the Grid to Flynn’s vision, for that era was gone – perhaps never existed, not in the way the Creator intended.The world was new now, it was hers and Sam’s and needed the indestructible spirit of youth; needed leaders who didn’t know failure was an option.

Another wave of guards rushed out from an alley, too many to count, and she dropped the disc like a knife had stabbed through her palms.She scrambled away and left the man there, eyes open but blank, system barely functioning.

Quorra jumped on her lightcycle and sped off before she could decide where she was going.She hated running, hated hiding, refused to ever do it again.Her only thought was to lead danger away from other Programs.Some saw her as a heroine but she treated herself like bait because she’d rather die fighting than see an innocent slaughtered.She was brazen and fearless and naïve with a complex for self-sacrifice, and it would either make her indestructible or destroy her quickly.

She rode off and they followed in a swarm, made it easy for her to swerve through tight spaces and cut corners and knock several off their bikes.They tumbled into walls or flew over bridges into the dark sea of nothingness below, and then they were gone, and the line behind sped up to take their places.

Victories came in small batches and Quorra would spend eternity saving the Grid if necessary. She would walk alone if she must, but knew she was fooling herself, knew she’d grow tired or weak, knew one slip up and she could be erased and the Grid left in chaos.

They gained on her, flew left and right to attack both flanks.A swift turn and one was hit and knocked off-balance.His lightcycle tipped and skidded with the guard stuck beneath it, pixilated trails of his body left in its wake.

The other already had disc drawn, came dangerously close to swiping Quorra’s cheek to the point she could feel the energy and smell the heat.She pulled away instinctively, lost control and regained it within the blink of an eye, but the real damage was her nerves, and now she was anxious and on edge and making mistakes.

She jerked forward suddenly as her cycle was bumped from behind. Her staff whipped out in response and she used all her force to jab it into the man to the left of her. He dipped but didn’t fall and she tried again, haphazardly because it was dangerous now, she was surrounded, and she felt herself begin to panic.

Her arm pulled back but the strike was interrupted by another hit to her backside.Quorra stumbled again, retracted the staff and ducked down to streamline her body as she put pressure on the thrusters.The guards followed as she knew they would, but distance was on her side now, gave her time to plan attack and gave her the means to successfully carry it out.

She threw her weight to the side and her foot went down, scraping against the road like fire as the lightcycle turned on a dime.Her disc flew from her hand, decapitated the first unlucky soul, ripped through the shoulder of another before returning safely.She threw it again but they were gaining fast, and only one was derezzed before the others closed the gap and she was left stranded, awaiting her disc to return.

Quorra leapt from the lightcycle, drew her staff in cautious battle pose.Two charged towards her on their bikes and she made quick work of them with single powerful strikes that flung them onto the ground.The rest approached by foot with spears pointing towards her, reminiscent of Roman soldiers in the books she’d read, the pictures she’d seen.

One detached from the group, got too close and was sent backwards with a kick to the stomach.The Black Guards stomped forward more quickly and Quorra turned to grab her lightcycle but knew the opportunity had passed.

She sized them up, kept arms guarded in front of her, searched desperately for any hole in their formation.Another grabbed at her and she twisted her arm around his own to push him off.When one went down, another took his place, until she was surrounded by a barrier of black and orange.

Quorra didn’t think about death – knew fear but refused to accept her own demise before it happened.The staff twirled in her hands to keep them at bay but it was hardly threatening, only delayed the inevitable.

A thought ran through her head, heavy and painful, that she couldn’t do this alone, that she wanted too much too quickly, that she buried Flynn’s ideals for a foolish dream because she thought she could do better.Her eyes wetted and she swallowed, tried to regain her senses and found it difficult.

A spark shot through her, sharp and hot, and she took it for a stab wound before realizing everyone was still, staring past her with expressions of amazement and fear.The energy changed, felt dangerous and peaceful all at once and Quorra turned in expectance; expected to see Flynn for she knew no one else with such presence.

Her lips parted delicately when she saw the man’s face, those blue lights arranged so precisely on his chest, that hard, beautiful body with movements that flowed like water.He was the one Flynn loved so deeply, the one Flynn chose to save from the old system because he needed Tron; needed him in numerous ways.

Quorra said nothing, didn’t need to because she could feel him, could read him, knew his purpose.The guards didn’t stir; remained entranced as Tron came forward, calm yet commanding, and stood at Quorra’s side.


End file.
